A Winter’s Snowball (CS Role Reversal)
Summary: It’s unusual for love to be in the air just outside of a ball meant to inspire it, but that’s how the Charming family has always worked, hasn’t it?
A/N: Hello, OUAT fandom! It’s great to be back, and just in time for the @csrolereversal!
What? Did you think you’d get rid of me so easily? As if!
AND LOOK AT THE AMAZING ARTWORK THAT INSPIRED THIS, YA’AL!!! ALL of the props in the world to my super awesome artist, @clockadile. Clockykins, what can I even say? I love this artwork. It’s an incredible mix of the classic Captain Swan aesthetics as well something so new and fun! The watercolors are gorgeous, and give off this amazing fairy tale feeling that works so well with all things OUAT! It really helped me to make this piece the quirky thing that it is.
If there was one thing that Snow White was more certain of than anything in regards to her daughter, it was that she did things her own way. It’s what Snow loved about Emma the most – Emma was hardly the ambiguous type, always upfront with her feelings and at-the-ready to follow her gut and her heart.
David joked that it was something the two of them had in common, and Snow wholeheartedly and unashamedly agreed with the sentiment, proud of all that it entailed, especially because in so many respects, they truly were different in so many other things.
For instance, they had different approaches to their kingdom’s grandest of celebrations.
Balls were fun for Snow and David – remarkable events with elegant dances, decadent food, and encounters from all over the kingdoms of the world that brought with them memories the attendants would have for life. Rooms came alive as conversation, lights, and music beamed all throughout their castle. Snow was positively invigorated by everything about them, from the planning phase to the final bits of cleaning the castle’s halls up.
However, while they were fun for Snow, they weren’t so much for Emma, as she was often one to tell them. It wasn’t that she hated her dresses, the idea of dancing, or even the socializing – quite the contrary in those respects, since she loved those things at times where balls weren’t being held.
No, what she disliked was actually what Snow loved the most – the grandeur of it all. Emma compared balls in their castle to what would happen if an entire circus or bazaar was shoved into their dining room, calling it “too much to handle at once.” In her defense, she wasn’t wrong. Balls could serve as courtship openings, family reunions, dances, and managerial work all at once.
Oh well, not every daughter was like her parents. She supposed it couldn’t be helped.
At least Emma was like her where it counted.
That’s the conclusion Snow reached upon seeing Emma playing in the snow of all things from the balcony, in any case.
While Snow loved balls with all of her heart, even she wasn’t about to say no to a short break from one after a few hours, and few spots in the castle served better to hide away in during those breaks than the balcony just outside the ballroom. It was private enough where she could get a moment to herself, yet close enough to the festivities that if she was needed, she could be there within moments. And the view from this balcony in particular was simply gorgeous. Their castle was blessed with a luscious garden, and while the snowfall that started this morning and persisted until the start of the ball had covered the lovely bushes of flowers there, it left the ground with a beautiful blanket of snow amidst the garden’s many arches and gazebos that was quite the sight to take in all the same, and much of it was captured so well by that balcony’s vantage point.
Snow had spent a few minutes there by herself, enjoying both the quiet that now surrounded her and the cold and crisp nighttime air. It was so peaceful there that if not for the ball inside, she’d have been content spending the entire evening out there.
But all of the sudden, that placid atmosphere was interrupted when she heard a sound from down below.
Immediately, Snow’s attention moved to the previously peaceful ground.
Her speedy reaction was rewarded when she saw a young man emerge from below the balcony, now hurrying across the formerly clean landscape.
“Y-your Majesty!” he cried, his right hand massaging his shoulder where a bright spot on his otherwise dark navy jacket appeared to be.
And then she heard a second, quite unorthodox sound.
It was her daughter’s voice.
